The Decline of Scottish Sea Power
by HalloweenJack138
Summary: Michael drags his employees back to the Lake for one last high seas adventure. You all remember the movie Titanic, those of you that saw it...
1. The Landing

_This one is either the start of a new masterwork for me or an excellent case study of someone losing the plot. Which is to say, if this one doesn't suck, let me know._

Michael, clearly flustered: I've always loved ocean life... ever since I first heard "Come Sail Away..."

He scratched thoughtfully at where his beard would be if he had one.

Michael: And..._ lake life_ is the next best thing to ocean life, so...

He looks over his shoulder as though expecting the door behind him to swing open at any second.

Michael: ...That's why I took my people out here again.

**The Decline of Scottish Sea Power**

**Adventure No. 14: **

**(Part 1)****  
**

**"Our Team Included..."**

"This side, quick!" Dwight cried frantically, arms flailing wildly towards the black lake they were floating on.

"You mean 'port?'" Stanley asked laconically.

"_Der Gelbe Hai_!" Dwight shouted, undeterred. "_I see it_!" he insisted.

As was to be predicted, absolutely no one moved.

"Get the harpoons ready!" Dwight stomped like a petulant child. It was rare that he coworkers got to see him this excited about anything and they weren't at all enjoying it.

Why had Michael dragged them all out to sea?

----

Jim: Some time ago I had a desire to see the watery parts of the world and...

A bit of a pause as he bails on his own bit.

Jim: About a year and half ago, Michael took us all on a booze cruise around Lake Wallenpaupack... You remember.

Pause, sort of a long one, really.

Jim: A few days ago, Michael bought the_ exact same boat_ at a police auction... I know, and Captain Jack seemed like such a nice, honest guy.

He jims.

Jim: Now, we aren't quite sure how Michael managed to pay for this boat, but I think when Jan finds out about it, he's going to wish he could sail it out to sea.

----

"Has he given us any idea how long were going to be out here?" Karen asked, staring across the sea.

"Karen, think about who we're talking about," Jim replied. "It took him three hours to figure out how to get out of dock."

Karen nodded, right now Michael was attempting to steer the ship by force of will. "Even if he doesn't capsize the ship, this is going to turn out really bad, isn't it?"

Jim nodded blankly. "I predict a riot."

Karen laughed.

"Of course," Jim continued, "he almost certainly_ will_ capsize the ship."

"Or hit an iceberg," Karen offered.

"In any case," Jim reflected, "I think we can all agree we are in classic disaster movie territory now."

"Maybe the boat can catch on fire," Karen joked, raising a eyebrow.

Suddenly Jim's face dropped. "I think I need to talk to Dwight."

Jim ran off to find Dwight as Karen shook her head, giggling slightly.

As she watched them depart from the other side of the boat, Pam decided it was time to look at the Moon.

Her stomach was definitely bothering her.

----

Pam, chipper: My name is Pam Beesly and I am the ship's cartographer.

She doesn't bow or curtsy here, but you can tell the temptation is there.

Pam: Really, the Lake isn't that big and it's pretty well charted, but... I like to draw, so Michael told me I should make some maps.

She holds up a finished colored pencil drawing. It's actually quite good.

Pam, smiling: So I made this map of the ship.

----

Back inside, Oscar helped himself too a generous drink. While this was technically a work cruise (although Michael had been characteristically vague as to _how_), there was no shortage of alcohol and Creed been subtly offering more to anyone interested.

"I bet this brings back memories, huh?" Michael said as he wedged himself into the seat next to Oscar. Anyone who came inside immediately became the object of Michael's hyperactivity, which had reached new levels even for him. This was probably we there were so many people wandering around outside.

"How do you mean?" Oscar asked with the usual tone of preemptive offense he used with Michael.

"Fleet Week," Michael snickered.

"Why would Fleet Week matter to me, Michael?" Oscar asked him seriously. "Scranton isn't even a port."

"Yeah, but you guys..." he continued, as though this were obvious.

Oscar sighed, at least Michael wasn't making racist comments.

"Hey, did you sneak into this country on a boat?" Michael asked earnestly.

----

Oscar, understandably angry: Michael asked me if I wanted to steer the boat.

Pause.

Oscar: Evidently he thinks all gay men are required to join the Navy.

----

Pam turned away from the open door of the ladies' room and pumped directly into Karen.

"Oh, sorry," she muttered awkwardly.

"It's okay, I was just..." Karen gestured towards the bathroom door.

"Of course," Pam stammered, "I had to, too, but Angela's in there." It didn't seem at all like Angela to leave the door open. "She's really sick," Pam explained.

Karen could now recognize Angela as the pile of clothes huddled on the floor. "Do you think I should get someone?" she asked, concerned.

Pam thought for a second. "Dwight."

Karen nodded and walked off.

----

This is where Dwight wanted to be, more than anywhere else. More than at his desk at work, where he proudly gave the best years of his life to the company he loved more than his own mother (especially after the incident in the closet all those years ago), more than the desk at home, where he had spent tireless hours crafting his many perfect YouTube music videos (including the latest work in progress, a brilliant Giles-Willow tribute using the Proclaimers "I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)")... this was his place.

"I'm going to find that Shark," he told the night.

The night said nothing in response, but Dwight felt it seemed to have its doubts.

"I'm going to find that Shark and I'm going to be the one to kill it," he repeated. "Because I am a hero and because I fear nothing."

"Hey, Dwight," Karen said softly approaching him from behind, "Angela's asking to see you."

Dwight tensed up to near-pretzel levels. "Why would see want to see me? We hardly know each other," he insisted far too quickly.

Karen shrugged. "I don't know, but she's really sick," she said sympathetically, "you should go to her."

Try as he might, Dwight couldn't conceal the real concern in his eyes. He almost seemed human for a second. "She never does well with slow-moving objects."

Karen nodded, she had pegged Dwight and Angela the day she got to Scranton.

But then, she prided herself on noticing things like that.

----

Karen, proudly: Yeah, I know my way around a boat. We used to have a boat to have a boat back in Stamford before my parents split up.

She takes a moment to reminisce.

Karen: When I told Michael, that he made me ship's "Bosun."

Pause.

Karen: I don't think he knows what that means.

----

"Hey, Big Tuna," Andy whispered as he sidled up to Jim, "I just want you to know I have my banjo and I am ready to go."

Jim nodded, this settled his earlier question as to what the eventual tragedy would be.

"I thinking when things start to chill down a little bit here, I'll break out the old Rush medley," Andy casually informed him, in the process making the world a less beautiful place for everyone in it.

"You should tell Michael about that," Jim said, "he loves Rush."

Andy's eyes lit up. "Really?"

Jim actually had no idea how Michael felt about Rush, it had never been issue before. "Abso_lute_ly," he smiled.

Andy gave Jim a friendly punch on the shoulder. "Thanks, Tuna."

"No problem, Andy," Jim replied, wondering if Michael had brought his ukulele on board and knowing that he would know the answer soon enough.

Andy went off in search of his boss, singing "Tom Sawyer" in as loud a falsetto as possible.

----

Andy, smugly: Andy Bernard, Cabin Boy.

He gives the old snarling nod.

Andy: Some people might not understand how much power the Cabin Boy actually has in emergency situations, but...

He looks at the camera as though he were the Shark.

Andy: ...It's a pretty cherry post.

----

"I don't understand," Dwight asked, keeping his voice low enough that anyone walking by would assume he was talking to himself, "you were fine last time."

Why he would be talking to himself in the ladies' washroom was a another problem, but he hadn't thought that far ahead.

"Last time the boat had a real captain," Angela rasped, clutching her sides.

"Michael is a fine captain," Dwight insisted.

Still, Dwight couldn't deny that the ship was experiencing significantly more turbulence than it had under Captain Jack. Next time he would have to remind Michael to buy a dirigible of some kind.

The boat suddenly lurched and Angela pitched and heaved. "Yuugh!"

Dwight wanted nothing more than to rush to her and comfort her, but of course that simply was not feasible. "Is there anything I can do?"

She shook her head with grim determination. "I will not accept weakness. Not from anyone else and_ certainly_ not from myself."

Dwight smiled, it was times like these that he remembered what attracted him to Angela in the first place.

----

Dwight: I have yet to be given an official position on this ship. Am I offended?

The old half-smirk rises into place.

Dwight: No.

He attempts to gave majestically into the distance.

Dwight: I have been given a far greater mission.

----

"My grandfather used to tell me about _Der Gelbe Hai_..." Dwight said softly, as though they were all sitting in front of a campfire. He probably would have started one on the boat if Jim hadn't stopped him. "...How it used roam the Lake, feeding on Papists and enemies of the State."

"Enemies of the_ Commonwealth_," Jim corrected. It was either stay out here and listen to Dwight or go back inside where Michael and Andy were still deep into their jam version of "In A Big Country."

Dwight was too moved by his own narrative to stop now. "He said _Der Gelbe Hai_ used to hide in the deepest part of the Ocean before it came here."

"To this is completely land-locked lake," Jim pointed out.

"That was in prehistoric times," Dwight spat back. He instinctively looked to Angela for a sign of her tacit support, but then remembered she was crumpled in a shivering ball on the floor of the woman's restroom. One could never rely on a female in a crunch, he reflected.

"So, all waters were connected then," Jim expanded.

"Right..." Dwight agreed, slightly less sure.

Jim could only jim in response.

Karen picked up the standard. "Wait, if the Shark's been here since prehistoric times, how could it still be alive?"

"Maybe it got frozen in a block of ice," Ryan suggested.

"No, that wouldn't..." Dwight tried to get a word in, but was quickly interrupted again.

"Maybe there's more than one Shark," Pam suggested.

"There is only _one_ Shark," Dwight insisted.

"Maybe it was trapped in suspended animation at the bottom of the Lake," Jim postulated, "and it only awoke after Three Mile Island." Dwight seemed to hate this explanation most of all, so Jim decided to chase it. "And now it surfaces, destroying small towns across Pennsylvania with its magical fire breath."

Dwight said nothing, but wrinkled his face into a twisted raisin of hate.

----

Dwight: When _Der Gelbe Hai_ shows up, I hope it mauls Jim first.

----

Ryan couldn't help but wonder when they were going to crash into the island where he got turned into a pig.

He had bordered the ship (tastefully re-christened "Suck Our Wake" by Michael) with his coworkers several lifetimes ago and had since given up any hope of getting back to shore. He had asked Michael exactly where they were and Michael had claimed that they kept getting blown off-course. Ryan had explained that this was impossible given the type of boat they were in and the total lack of strong winds, which Michael shouted down by claiming the Ryan was lucky to have been born pretty. Michael had been even more distracted than usual, and Ryan would have wondered about it if Michael hadn't already been Michael.

All he knew was that his life, which he had previously defined as "'No Exit' with bad jokes" was now "No Exit" with bad jokes _on a boat_.

_Forever._

Suddenly, Kelly was on him like a ramora, sucking the very soul out of him. "OhmygodRyan, it's so romantic! All alone on a boat! It's just like that scene in that movie... you know the one I'm talking about?"

"'Monkey Business?'" Ryan offered. By this time his lungs were aching for air, but Kelly just kept squeezing him harder.

"No, that one was in black and white," she retorted irritated, "you know I won't watch anything in black and white. I mean, what's the point, if it was any good, someone would have remade it recently, right?"

"Of course," Ryan agreed, wondering how far he could swim.

----

Ryan: I just want to go home.

----

"This is the life, Jim," Michael reflected as he breathed in the brackish night sea air. "This is how real men lived, back in simpler times... out on the open sea."

Jim didn't bother to point out that they weren't on the open sea now, but there was one matter he simply could not stay quiet about. "How do you think Jan's going to feel when she finds out you have this boat?"

Michael skipped his track like a backwards record. "Whuh... why would she find out?"

"She has to find out eventually," Jim pointed out, "we can't stay out here forever."

The look of stark white terror on Michael's face told Jim that Michael had clearly had thoughts to the contrary.

This immediately brought Jim's thoughts back to what they were doing out here in the first place. He had assumed Michael had been keeping them out there accidentally, but now he was starting to have his doubts.

---- 

Michael, trying to conceal how rattled he is behind false bravado: I am _Captain_ Michael Scott, Master and Commander...

Thoughtful pause.

Michael: ...And a good friend. I recently acquired this noble vessel and I can only see it as being an advantage to this company. Why?

Dramatic pause.

Michael: Do the other paper companies have their own boat?

Self-congratulatory pause as he shakes his head.

Michael: I don't think so.

----

Safe once again behind the wheel of his boat, Michael reflected on what Jim had said. Obviously he couldn't let everyone find out why he had really taken them onto his boat, but... he really couldn't keep out here forever... could he?


	2. The Bellman's Speech

_Success! After nearly a week of trying to get this chapter posted, it's finally live! _**  
**

**The Decline of Scottish Sea Power**

**Adventure No. 14:**

**(Part 2)**

**"Let Me Tell You About My Boat"**

Michael, increasingly manic: Anyone can buy a boat... but a real captain knows his ship like it was a woman.

He smiles smugly.

Michael: And I've never gotten any complaints.

He gestures towards the faux steering wheel Dwight is standing behind.

Michael: Over here we have the, uh... the front part of the boat. The "pointy part."

His smile twitches lamely.

----

Schrute-ish eyes sailed over the black, brackish surf for any sign of the great, pallid corpse of the legendary beast his grandfather had told him of.

In his heart, Dwight had always known he was a hero. The circumstances of his life had proven that time and time again. But this was his chance to become more than a hero. This was his chance to become a... bigger hero.

"There's nothing out there."

Dwight turned to face his naysayer. "_Der Gelbe Hai_ is out there, Oscar." he hissed. "The Schrute family has been hunting it for centuries."

Oscar looked at him seriously. "You've been hunting it for centuries?"

"Yes," Dwight said with absolute certainty.

Oscar licked his lip subtly before continuing. "In a lake that was built in 1924?"

Dwight was scoobied for a moment, but quickly recovered with a flawless retort. "Shut up!"

Oscar couldn't help but snicker.

"That Shark is out there!" Dwight insisted. "And I will be the one the find that Shark and I will the one to slay that Snark..."

Oscar smiled. "'_Snark_?'"

"I meant 'shark,'" Dwight floundered limply.

Oscar nodded. "Right."

----

Michael: This is the rear, uh, part of the ship... sort of the "butt" of the boat.

He cracks a forced smile.

Michael: It looks like Jim and Karen are out there right now... I wouldn't want to interrupt them...

Andy, rushing past: I'll take care of it, Cap'n.

Michael: No, wait...

Andy, raising an assuring hand: It's cool. I've got it.

----

Despite the circumstances, there was always something about being on a ship that Karen responded to on a very elemental level. Maybe it was the memories of her child, maybe it was genetic memory, but there was just something about the saltwater air that made her feel like all was right in the world.

She looked over at Jim and almost forgot for a moment that the vessel they were floating on had been seized by an untrained madman.

"So, the guy who used to own this boat..." Karen began coyly.

"Captain Jack?" Jim broke in.

"Yeah..." Karen replied, "was that his real name?" she asked.

Jim shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted. "I think maybe when your name is Jack you're kind of driven to become the captain of _something_."

Karen smiled, at that moment she was felt completely at peace for the first time in months.

So, of course, it was then that Andy wedged himself directly in between Jim and Karen. "Imagine the sexual diseases Captain Jack Sparrow would have had," he speculated.

"Um..." Jim replied for lack of anything else to say.

"I mean as a Seventeenth Century pirate based Keith Richards?" Andy laughed. "He'd be lucky if it didn't fall right off."

If there was one thing that Karen had been hoping to dynamite out of this almost entirely insoluble situation, it was a romantic moment or two with Jim.

Oddly enough, she didn't find conversations about venereal diseases conducive to creating such moments.

"Yeah," she said as if in a dream.

In a desperate attempt to drive Andy off this line of discussion and thus hopefully salvage the last remaining debris of the evening, Jim asked the question everyone in the office had been avoiding. "So, Andy... how did Anger Management go?"

A disquieting quiet settled on Andy for a moment. Karen looked at Jim with the blank wide eyes of hopeless terror. Jim wished he shot himself rather than broach the subject. "It changed the way I see the world, Tuna," he said with a warmth that just made Jim feel like their were there were large insects scuttling about just below his skin.

"Really?" he asked, not knowing why he had given Andy the opening to continue. Karen didn't seem to know, either.

Andy nodded. "Before I was just so bottled up and full of rage... but now I feel like I can really express myself..." He smiled like he was about to devour Jim whole. "...Like I can really say how I feel."

Jim nodded, wondering if he could swallow his own tongue to prevent himself from saying anything so wrong ever again.

Andy turned to face Karen. "I love you, Kare Bear."

All the work Jim had put into his relationship with Karen and now she was going to murder him.

Andy looked Jim square in the eye as if he were trying to decide whether or not to throw a punch. "I love you, Tuna."

"Thank you," Jim croaked, understandably concerned.

Andy flashed a row of glistening Hammerhead fangs and, with the same pent-up hostility that Andy always brought with him said "you too are really my best friends."

It was then that Jim realized Andy was going to kill everyone on the boat.

"Thanks, Andy," he said. "We like you, too."

----

Michael: This is the main dining area of the ship, or... as I like to call it... "_the ballroom_."

He snickers like a four year old.

Michael, still laughing: See, it's a "ballroom," because...

----

This whole trip had been an exercise in coping with nausea for Angela, in more ways than she cared to enumerate.

Feeling fresh another wave of the sickness cascading within her, she got up from her rickety table and slowly warbled her way across the spinning room, roughly shoving her way through the door.

"Um, _excuse me_!" Kelly kwerked. Evidently she was the one Angela had just shoved.

"You were in my way," Angela said, knowing that justified everything. "You were blocking the door."

Kelly wrinkled her nose angrily. "You couldn't have squeezed past me?"

"No," she coldly, fighting back the sickness, "I couldn't have."

Kelly recoiled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means there a millions of women suffering from bulimia in the world..." Angela smiled "...maybe you should think about joining them."

As Kelly ran off sobbing, Angela took a moment to bask in her triumph.

Then she tumbled off to be violently ill for the next forty-five minutes.

Across the room, Pam was proudly attempting to garner any interest whatsoever in her latest finished illustration. "It's Dwight's shark," she explained.

"Oh," Ryan hummed. It wasn't that he was anti-social, there were just times he wanted to be left alone.

"I only had two shades of yellow, so I had to mix in some light browns and grays," she continued, knowing he wasn't listening. "I think it worked, though."

"Absolutely," he agreed without looking. Really, he supposed that was what he was looking for in a woman: someone who would know when he needed to be left alone.

"Ryan!" Kelly cried as she threw herself at him, "you won't believe what Angela just said to me!"

Pam was preparing to disappear to somewhere very far away when she felt herself being tapped on the shoulder.

She turned to face her boss. "Pamcakes, can I speak to you in private?"

That fact that she agreed proved that she had been out to sea too long.

----

Michael: This is where we drive the ship, so... of course this is the perfect place to go when you want to be left alone, because it is always empty.

Pam: Wait... _what?_

----

Michael stared out the window wistfully.

He'd been doing that almost exclusively seen he'd called Pam into the room fifteen minutes ago and she was getting a bored.

"Did you want something, Michael?" she said finally.

Michael nodded without moving anything below his chin. "I was just... _thinking_," he said pompously.

"Oh, okay," Pam said as she got up to leave.

Michael held his hand out to indicate she should stay. "Wouldn't it be great to stay out here forever, Pam?" he said in a tone that made her even more uneasy.

"Well..." she tried to think of the most diplomatic way of phrasing her obvious problems with this idea. "It's not really practical." Seeing the hurt expression on his face, she struggled to regroup. "I mean... we're going to run out of food soon, Michael."

Michael looked at her like she was an idiot. "We're floating on food, Pam."

"This isn't a fishing boat, Michael," she pointed out, "we don't have that kind of equipment."

Like most injections of sanity into his life, Michael reacted to his statement with hostility. "Well, I hope your proud of that attitude, Pam, because you just killed your whole crew."

Pam opened her mouth to say something, but simply couldn't decide on what.

----

Michael: This door leads downstairs to the engine room... or whatever.

He indicates a door that does indeed seem like it could lead to an engine room.

Michael: I haven't been down there myself, but Kevin and a few of the warehouse guys are down there keeping this ship afloat.

----

"So, we're trying to get a poker game going on down here," Darryl whispered from the doorway, "and we need one more guy. You in?"

Barring one significant victory, Toby did not consider himself much of a gambler. Of course, on deck the only way to pass an evening open to him was to be the subject of Michael's unjustified and increasing hatred. "Yeah... sure," he said with his usual reluctance.

"Cool," Darryl nodded. Then, after a thought added "But if Mike asks, you were in the Navy."

Toby considered this for a second. "Can I be a Seal?"

Darryl smiled, there was just something he liked about Toby.

----

Michael walked slowly across the sleepy nightworld of his vessel, closing the distance between himself and Dwight, who still stood sentry over the pointy part of the boat.

"Hey, Dwight," he said quietly.

"Yes, Michael?" Dwight shouted with such vigorous loyalty that Michael had to signal him to take it down a few notches.

"How..." Michael struggled for a moment with the words "How long do you think we can survive on the food we have?" he asked as casually as possible. "I mean, it's not that we can't go back to the land, it's just..."

Dwight smiled with broad determination. "You don't have to worry about that, Michael."

For a precious moment, relief washed over Michael like the waves crashing on the rocks. "Really?"

Dwight nodded. "Once I catch _Der Gelbe Hai_, there'll be enough meat to feed us for months."

Michael collapsed into himself as though he were trapped in some invisible trash compactor. For a moment he had to remind himself of how much worse it would be if he ever went back on the land.

"Hey, Duke," Andy sang as he draped an arm a bit too tightly around Michael's neck, "I know we've had our problems, but I want you to know that I love you more than anyone else in the world."

Michael had never felt less comfortable in his life.

"I couldn't say that on the shore," Andy joked jockishly, "it would mean I was a butt-pirate."

Michael was more than a little grateful when the ship suddenly sherked violently to one side and he was able to slip out of Andy's embrace.

Jim slowly rushed up to his commanding officer. "Hey Michael, I think we hit something," he said with a distinct lack of urgency.

"_Der Gelbe Hai_!" Dwight shouted as he ran towards the source of the impact.


	3. The Baker's Tale

_I personally promise to send an ice cold can of TaB to everyone who reads this chapter... that's right, the sugar-free cola guaranteed to cause cancer in lab rats! Now then, who wants a drink?_

**The Decline of Scottish Sea Power**

**Adventure No. 14:**

**(Part 3)**

**"I'm Not Even That Strong A Swimmer"**

The waters of Wallenpaupack had returned to their previous state of dead calm.

"Well, whatever it was," Stanley narrated with his usual lazy drawl, "it's gone now."

"It's _hunting_ us," Dwight hissed desperately. "It's playing games."

Dwight's coworkers-turned-crew mates seemed unconvinced.

"He's watching us," Dwight insisted, "and laughing."

Jim raised a jimish eyebrow. "The_ Shark_ is laughing at us?"

"If you don't accept the danger you're in right now--" Dwight began.

"It's a very dangerous laughing Snark," Oscar said dryly.

"Of course," Jim concurred.

----

Jim: The first job I ever had... I worked as a busboy and... my manager took one look at me and decided he didn't like me.

Jim-nod.

Jim: He was very serious about cleaning up plates of other people's half-eaten Awful Burgers and I guess he didn't like my attitude.

Pause.

Jim: He fired me on my third day because he didn't like the way I was _standing_. So...

----

Jim began to speak with noticeable caution. "So, you did this boating thing a lot when you were a kid, right?"

"Yeah," Karen replied beamishly. "I didn't think you remembered that."

Jim nodded, he supposed that was fair enough. "So, if Michael actually sinks this thing, you'd know what to do."

"Well, my Dad never actually _sank _a boat, but..." then Karen's eyes lit up as she realized where Jim was going with this. "You don't know how to swim, do you?"

"I can swim" Jim argued sheepishly.

Karen strained not to laugh. "Wow, you reallycan't."

After a pause, Jim admitted."I kinda don't want that to get around."

----

Jim: I was always afraid that if Dwight found out I couldn't swim he'd try to drown me...

Pause.

Jim: _In the office._

----

Dwight, dead serious: He was right to think that.

----

"What, the Tuna can't swim?" a passing Andy interrupted. "Irony," he sang.

"Thank you, Andy," Jim replied. He turned back to Karen "I just need to know..."

"I'll take care of you," Karen assured him.

Jim gave her a weak appreciative smile.

Karen couldn't help but revel in the fact that Jim was finally beginning to rely on her... it was just a shame they were both going to die at sea. "So, this Snark really has you worried, huh?"

Jim shook his head with mock gravity. "Every night, I wake up screaming."

----

Jim: About eight or nine years ago, I had a part-time job playing the Easter Bunny at the mall, and... at least once a day, some guys would start punching me...

Thoughtful-jim.

Jim: A lot of them would say "this is for Brodie..."

Pause.

Jim: And every day I put on the giant fuzzy bunny head I thought to myself "this is going to be the day they finally kill me."

He lets the absurdity of that recollection hang in the air for a moment.

----

"Hey, Big Turkey," Andy said, trying unsuccessfully to hook an arm around Ryan, who deftly avoided it. "Great to be back together, huh?" He attempted to punch Ryan playfully in the arm, but Ryan took a sizable step back. "The twin kings of Dunder-Mifflin... they should be playing 'the Boys Are Back In Town' when you and I walk into the room."

"Have we ever spoken to each other?" Ryan asked with his usual lack of emotion.

But Andy didn't get through life by listening to other people, and his attentions were already elsewhere. "Hey, what's up with that board?" he asked, pointing with his chin towards a giant piece of paper with a huge black "zero" painted on it.

"That's the death toll from Dwight's Phantom Death Shark," Ryan sighed, his eyes filling thirty-seven Proustian volumes of bored exasperation.

"It's at zero?" Andy asked, looking back to the board in case it had jumped in the last few seconds.

"Well, yeah, but Dwight's confident that it's going to spike up pretty soon," Ryan justified with light sarcasm.

Andy snorted. "Yeah, like _Dwight's_ the guy you want with you in a shark attack."

Ryan couldn't argue the logic of this statement, which only encouraged Andy to try again.

"When that Shark hits, you find _me_," he grunted, pointing to himself.

Ryan nodded, less enthusiastically then half-asleep or about to be sick.

Not that Andy had ever been able to tell the difference. "_I'll_ settle his hash," Andy proclaimed with herculean confidence.

Safe in the knowledge that he was in the hands of so talented a caretaker, Ryan wandered off in a blank desperation.

Time to find Kelly again.

----

Jim: One year on vacation, we went to visit family in Bedford and... I took a part-time job working at my Uncle's store...

Pause.

Jim: He sold live bait and coffee.

Jim-nod.

Jim: But was it worse than _this_?

Pause.

Jim: Well...

----

"Michael," Pam said cautiously as she approached him with cat-like silence, "did you know there are no lifeboats on this ship?"

Despite what he went on to say, Michael's reaction made it clear that he knew that very well. "_What?_ Of course there are! I mean... What?"

This wasn't the first time Pam had wished she was bigger and scarier; she drew herself up and said his name again in a tone she hoped was intimidating, but feared fell closer towards frightened concern. "Michael..."

"Pam, I am the captain of this vessel and you _do not_ question the captain!" Michael shouted shakily. "That's treason."

Pam considered pointing out it would actually be mutiny, but decided that wouldn't help matters any. "It's just..."

But Michael just kept barreling along at full speed. "When Homer went on that odyssey in Greece, did Lenny and Carl ask him about lifeboats?"

"Michael, Odysseus killed his whole crew," Pam pointed out.

"Maybe it was his crew'sfault," he hissed, trying to hide the fact that he had obviously not known that. "Maybe if, instead of all those whining Greeks he would have had those guys from the_ 300 _who knew how to follow orders they'd all still be alive today."

Pam took a deep breath. In all the years she had dealt with Michael, interacting with him closer than almost any human being previously had, Pam had yet to find the key to get him to submit to normal human logic. When someone called him on the glaring improbabilities of his world view he'd either get defensive or crumple into a fetal ball and refuse to talk about it. Was there any way she could convey the feelings of her coworkers to Michael in a way that even he could understand?

Just then, Karen walked into the control room.

"Micheal, my boyfriend's convinced that you're going to get him killed," Karen said simply. When she noticed Pam, Karen gave a polite "hi, Pam" which Pam dutifully returned.

And then she was gone just as quickly as she had come in.

For a moment, Michael merely stood there unsure how to react.

----

Michael: Do I believe there's a shark in this lake?

Pause.

Michael: I can't say.

Pause.

Michael: I mean, most urban legends are based on fact, right? Look at the "in the butt, Bob" story.

He nods.

Michael: Everyone said that was a myth, too.


	4. The Hunting

_There's a talking head with Karen in this chapter that I think might make a good story in itself... let me know what you think._

**The Decline of Scottish Sea Power**

**Adventure No. 14:**

**(Part 4)**

**"That's What I'm Talking About, A Relationship Sub-Plot."**

Pam sometimes wondered if the only reason Michael took his promotion was so that he could call everyone together.

"It has come to my attention," he roared at the frontline of Dunder-Mifflin Scranton (with some notable exceptions), "that some of you are worried that you're going to die here."

"Who?" Dwight demanded, his breath bated as he prepared to leap into accusation.

"_That_... is not for me to say," Michael said steadfastly, somewhat undermining his point by drilling his eyes directly into Pam.

Even Dwight couldn't miss such a clear sign. "_Treason_," he breathed.

"It can't be treason," Andy chimed in, his tone especially nasal, "we aren't at war."

"Yes, we are," Phyllis reminded him. "With Iraq, remember?"

"No, I knew that," said Andy, who clearly didn't. "But that's the _country_," he added weakly. "I meant the _boat_."

"Pam, Michael is our captain _and_ our manager and you have no business questioning him," Dwight snarled.

"The _boat _isn't at war," Andy mumbled anemically.

"_The point is_," Michael broke, "No employee of his office..."

"We aren't _in_ the office..." Stanley sardonically inserted.

"...Has ever died on my watch," Michael finished, undeterred.

"Well... there was Ed Truck," Phyllis reluctantly volunteered.

"He was retired," Michael dismissed, "all bets were off."

"What about Tom?" Oscar asked.

Michael looked flummoxed. "Who?"

"He took his own life a few years ago," Pam gently reminded, Michael gave no outward sign of recognition, so she kept on. "He was looking for better support for depression..."

Michael angrily shrugged it off. "Well, that was before we knew about the dangers of depression. If I had known about the problem sooner, he'd probably still be alive today."

"Well, that's kind of the point..." Pam mumbling helplessly.

Michael's face broke. "I will reminded you," he warbled, choking back tears and bile, "that a ship is only as good as its crew. Even the greatest captain in the world can only do so much." He cast his face away defiantly. "So if you're this ship does sink, it's everyone's fault but mine."

"Well, you _were_ the one who forced us to run a cruise ship with no training or experience," Oscar countered.

"I don't want to hear your apologies," Michael replied, huffing off for another part of the boat, far away from his ungrateful employees.

----

Jim: When I was twenty-one, I started dating a girl who worked at a strip club.

He grimaces.

Jim: She didn't tell me that herself, actually... I found out when I introduced her to my family on Thanksgiving.

Pause.

Jim: Yeah, that was kind of awkward...

----

Dwight portioned out cold, hard looks of rancor to each and every one of his coworkers, first as a group, then individually. Michael's bold leadership skills were the only hope they had of getting through a shark attack alive (minus a few "accidents" that had all been a long time coming) and now, like Jesus, they had turned away from him when all he asked for was love, faith, and a total willingness to give their lives in sacrifice to him. Letting everyone know just how disappointed Dwight was in them right now was a herculean task, but it was one he relished.

Dwight was brought out of his reverie by a light tap on his shoulder.

"Dwight," Karen called lightly, "I've been looking all over for you."

Dwight smiled, he had always known this day would come. Karen had obviously tired of Jim's sexual incompetence and had come him to learn how down was meant to gotten. Not that he would cheat on Angela, but... he felt confident that certain arrangements could be made.

"Here," Karen said, depositing a a small bottle in his hand, "give this Angela."

Dwight examined the bottle, one could never rule out poison if one wanted to survive.

"It's just fruit juice, Dwight," she explained, suddenly frustrated for no reason Dwight could grasp. "It will help with her seasickness."

Dwight read each line of the contents as though he were trying to decipher the Dead Sea Scrolls. "This has algae," he finally announced.

"So?" she asked, clearly exasperated. It was probably Jim's fault.

"Angela is a vegetarian," Dwight replied, trying to mask his shame on this point.

"Algae isn't an animal," Karen accurately diagnosed.

"No," Dwight agreed with an air of authority, "they belong to Kingdom Protista."

"Right," Karen nodded. Dwight was frankly baffled that such a smart woman would choose to be with Jim Halpert. Perhaps drugs were involved.

"So..." Dwight continued after a pause, "are vegetarians allowed to drink protists?"

"I don't know, Dwight," Karen replied, burying her face in her hands, "I just thought it might make Angela feel better." Maybe Jim was hypnotizing her somehow.

Dwight considered it for a moment. "We'll just have to take on a protist-by-protist basis." He would have to search Jim's desk from research material on hypnotizing females.

For the good of the office, of course.

And then he was off, leaving Karen to think once again about life choices.

From across the deck, she saw her lover's face and noticed the expression of tortured introspection etched thereon. While the past few weeks with Jim had been easily the best in their relationship, she had to admit that she had seen more of that look on his face than she would have preferred in the past few days.

She also had to admit that she knew the source.

She closed the distance between them slowly, blaming herself for what had happened with every step. When she finally came to him, her voice was barely a whisper as she asked the question that she knew could only be answered one way: "you're thinking about Spider-Man 3 again, aren't you?"

Jim nodded morosely.

----

Karen: Yes, I made Jim take me to Spider-Man 3 opening night. I've loved Spider-Man ever since I was a little girl and... I wanted to him to see the movie with me.

She gives the usual Karen smilet.

Karen: It's not like I make him dress up in the costume or anything.

-----

Karen instinctively switched to an apologetic defensive. "I'm sorry you hated the movie, but..."

"I didn't hate it," Jim murmured solemnly.

Karen was unconvinced. "Jim."

"It's just..." he fumbled for a second, trying to find the right words to paint to convoluted mess his feelings on the subject had become. "It's just hard to watch someone you respect fall so far... you know?" he finally said.

"I appreciate you saying that, Jim," Michael's voice crackled from behind them. "You've always been like a slightly younger brother to me," he said.

Karen and Jim both watched as their boss floated sadly away like a plastic bag caught in an updraft.

Jim looked to Karen and she nodded.

Jim grimaced, he had actually been hoping she wouldn't. "Hey, Michael!" he called.

----

Ryan: Yeah, I usually like things to be casual, but... I've been serious girls before.

Pause.

Ryan: There was one girl a few years ago that... I don't know, I thought it was going somewhere, but...

He shrugs, as close to choked up as he is capable of being.

Ryan: Actually, the week she left me was the same week I agreed to take the job at the temp agency.

He smiles ironically and pauses for a moment to let us all think about that for a moment.

Ryan: I ran into her the other day... She's selling religious t-shirts online now.

----

"What do..." Michael spoke strangely philosophically. "What did you imagine getting out of this documentary?"

"I don't know," Jim admitted. He had actually been terrified about that point since filming began. No matter how sympathetically he was portrayed, the film could hardly help his personal life. Professionally, he would be dead in the water.

It certainly couldn't help his love life.

"A few laughs, I guess," he conceded. "What about you?"

After a pause, Michael mumbled "I wanted to host the re-make of 'Studs.'"

Jim nodded. "Good choice," he said.

"I've got a whole pitch worked out," Michael said, wistful and broken-hearted.

----

Jim: For those of you who might be a little young, "Studs" was a dating show in the 1990s that was widely accepted as being the single most degrading thing in the history of American broadcasting.

Pause.

Jim: We've had _much_ worse since.

----

"Do you know what the first major argument Jan and I had as a couple was?" he asked, he voice rich in a kind of sickly, soupy melancholy.

Jim could honestly say he did not.

"We were going into a meeting with Wallace," Michael explained, "CFO."

Jim nodded, he had actually been about to return a phone call from David Wallace when Michael threw his phone in the lake.

"Jan told me not to make any jokes about my penis... I told her I tired not to, but they kept coming up." In spite of the obvious emotional exhaustion he was going through, Michael couldn't help but laugh at his own joke.

"Michael, I know it's hard to work with someone who dumped you..." Jim began.

"_I_ dumped her," Michael corrected automatically.

"Right," Jim wouldn't have believed it himself if he hadn't outside the door when it happened. As it stood, he still had to keep reminding himself that was what had actually happened.

"She _fired_ me," Michael amended.

Jim blinked. So that's what that phone call was about.

-----

Kelly: My boyfriend before Ryan was **SO** cute, but we had to break up because he got this really great job in Singapore, and I **TOTALLY** understood so... it just wasn't a big deal...

Pause.

Kelly: Although I did have to hear that from his mom...


	5. The Beaver's Lesson

**The Decline of Scottish Sea Power**

**Adventure No. 14:**

**(Part 5)**

**"Are You Finding What You're Looking For Out Here?"**

With Michael off sulking like Achilles in his tent, the mic had effectively been passed to Dwight. "I now believe that the Shark intends to wait us out. It will wait until we run out of food and then strike us at our weakest."

"That is one crafty Snark," Oscar snorted.

"Obviously none of us want this to degenerate to the point of cannibalism," Dwight paused dramatically. "...But if it _does_..."

A general wave of disgusted disbelief rolled through the crowd.

"...Please keep in mind that _some of us_ are can more viable food sources..."

"Hey, Dwight," Oscar interrupted.

"...Capable of keeping the rest of us alive much longer," he finished.

"Dwight!"

"Yes, Oscar," Dwight snarled in annoyance, "I'm sure all of us would like to know what kind of homosexual emergency you are having that is somehow more important then the survival of the group."

"I just think," said Oscar, exasperated, "that we should be focusing on the food we _do have_ right now and we should start working on getting back to the dock."

"We will get back to land when Michael commands it," Dwight replied with Sith-like cruelty, "and I already have two randomly chosen employees taking inventory in the galley."

----

At that very moment in the galley, Pam and Karen were treasuring an awkward moment.

"So..."

It was the kind of moment that was so very, very good at being awkward you could almost imagine a vast trophy-case back at its parents' house, full of awkwardness awards won early in life.

"So..."

And, now that it had grown and matured, it had not lost a step of the talent it had shown in youth.

"So, the other day," Karen began, just trying not to give in to the silence, "I turned the TV... just to have some noise, you know?"

"Right," Pam righted.

"And it was Star Trek II." She paused for a moment. "And it was never my thing, but my Dad and my Granddad loved the show."

"It must skip every other generation," Pam handled the joke like it was an itchy sweater.

"Yeah," Karen laughed even though it wasn't funny. "I left it on because it made me think of my Granddad... how I watched that show with him the day before he died."

Pam nodded, just trying to get anyone to say anything.

"But... the thing I kept thinking was... according to this movie, we were supposed to be conquered by genetic supermen like fifteen years ago." She looked Pam in the eyes. "Have you ever seen a genetic superman?"

Pam froze for a moment. "Other than Dwight, you mean?" she finally asked.

Karen laughed, largely out of obligation.

----

Kevin: I've been out to sea so long I've started to forget what life is like on shore. Like...

His jaw hangs open for a moment of intense concentration.

A very long moment.

Kevin, incredibly slowly: I've actually forgotten what Monica Keena looks like.

Pause.

Kevin: I keep trying to picture her in mind, but... I keep getting Hayden Panettiere.

----

"...So, when Jim left, we were disqualified from the contest," Kevin said with his usual dodder, as he shuffled the cards.

Lonny shook his head. "That's too bad, man."

Kevin shrugged. "Starting a Queen tribute band was a pretty stupid idea anyway," he admitted. "We're doing a lot better since we changed our sound."

"Yeah?" Lonny cocked his head.

Kevin nodded. "Now we're a Run-DMC tribute band."

Lonny nodded, genuinely impressed. "How's that working out for you?"

Kevin smiled with undiluted confidence "I'm the King of Rock."

On the other side of the room, Toby and Darryl were discovering a shared interest. "So," Toby related, "Michael comes on stage, but his stage-fright is so bad the only line he can remember is 'I am the Great and Powerful Oz...'"

Darryl smiled wide enough to swallow whole planets.

"So he_ keeps _saying it..." Toby continued. "Over and over and over again."

Now Darryl couldn't help laugh. "You serious?" he asked between chuckles.

Toby smiled as much as he was capable of. "I'll send you a copy of the tape."

Darryl nodded, there was always something he liked about Toby.

At the moment, the door swung open and they all hurried to hide their distractions in a moment disturbing similar to memories they had all had from being thirteen and their respective moms coming into their rooms.

"Hey, guys, I..." Michael began..

"Sorry, Mike," Darryl cut quick, "it's not safe for you down here. There's, uh, radiation."

"But, you're all down here," Michael said in a rare moment of clarity.

"Yeah, but a ship like this needs to use a special kind of radiation to run," Darryl improvised with absolute conviction, "we were all injected with the cure back in the Navy, but..." he looked Michael dramatically dead in the eyes "...radiation can do terrible things to a man."

Michael turned a very specific shade of purple. "Say no more," he burbled and disappeared back through the door.

Darryl smiled, this boat trip wasn't turning out so bad after all.

-----

Darryl: In case my daughter's watching, I just want to say... it's never okay to lie.

He shakes his finger to emphasis the point.

Darryl: ...But it's also not okay to throw someone smaller than you off a boat.

He nods.

Darryl: And at some point, you'll have to choose the lesser of two evils.

----

Now Jim had a choice to make.

And he was never at his best when he had to come to a decision, as his present circumstances indicated.

With Michael fired, Jim was at least the _Acting_ Regional Manager, which meant that he was within his rights to turn this ship back from the brink of insanity and bring everyone safely back to land. (Really, he supposed he could have done that at any time, but Michael _was_ their boss and they tended to go along with him...)

Still, he really didn't like to hurt Michael and his former boss was currently as desperate as Jim had ever seen him.

This was definitely the type of situation that called for someone who was willing to put in a little effort in life.

"Hey, Tuna," Andy said, sidling up to him, "What the hazzizzaps?"

Jim gave a nod, he simply did not have the energy to deal with Andy right now.

"You know, I was thinking about what Dwight was saying before," Andy continued, "about having to resort to cannibalism."

Jim weighed in his head whether or not he was happier when Andy was talking about syphilis and came up blank.

"Tuna," he said seriously, "if it comes down to that, I want all of you to eat me."

No, this was definitely worse.

"After all," Andy expostulated, "the good of the many will always outweigh the good of the one."

Jim's eyes went wide. "Huh."

Andy stared at him, uncomprehending, but Jim just ran off, his stride marked by a new sense of purpose.

He had to find Karen.

-----

Jim: I can't believe I'm actually making an important decision based on something Andy said.

----

Andy: Yeah, I go to Trek for most problems in life...

Pause.

Andy: Well, the real tough ones sometimes call for Buffy or Firefly, but...

-----

"...so, I ask him if he wants coffee or tea and he says he 'could go either way,'" Karen said in her best 'Jim voice.' "And it was then that I realized Halpert's deepest secret... he's a _bi-bivergal_."

Pam had often thought that, were their circumstances different, she and Karen could have been much better friend. After all, they had had an immediate rapport, it's just there had been something that got in the way of that early on.

The door swung open and the two women came face-to-face with the source of their impasse.

Jim was instantly struck by an anxiety the reached out from inside his stomach and crippled him from within. He was about to open his mouth to show them how casual he was about the whole thing when Andy materialized behind him and slapped him on the back.

"Three-way!" Andy shouted, drawing out the words for what felt like aeons. "Awesome!"


End file.
